Hippie Harvest
by Salingerfan4077
Summary: Marty visits the 1960s. Please read and review! FINALLY COMPLETED!
1. Chapter 1

November 6, 1985  
11:20AM PST

Marty is bored. Very bored. He could barely stay awake as his History teacher, Mr. Arky, droned on about the sixties and the Vietnam War. Mr. Arky is a balding, uninspired man of fifty-five who just lost at the game of life. Marty would be more interested in the subject if his teacher talked about the music of the era. But unfortunately, this wasn't the case.

"So your paper on the sixties is due on Friday," said Mr. Arky, as the bell rang. "Remember, it's five pages double-spaced."

Marty hasn't even started the paper and it's due in two days. Marty always has lunch after History class. Lunch is his favorite subject. He likes it even more than Music Appreciation. Marty doesn't care for his Music Appreciation teacher, Mr. Lewis, very much. Especially when he rejected Marty's band The Pinheads at the dance auditions. Ironically enough, Mr. Lewis looks a lot like Marty's favorite musician, Huey Lewis.

Marty sat at his usual lunch table. He has his girlfriend Jennifer sitting with him. The guys from the Pinheads and their girlfriends were sitting there too. Marty's the lead singer and guitarist of his band. The bassist with the blond mullet was Denny Lindstrom. The drummer was Robbie Wooderson. Robbie kind of looks like Marty, except he's somewhat taller and he always wore black biker gloves. Then there was Josh Friedman, the keyboardist with the Farrah Fawcett hairstyle.

"You guys are so lucky you don't have Mr. Arky," Marty told his bandmates. "I have to do some stupid paper that's only due in two days. I didn't even know about it until today."

"The assignment has been on the board for over two weeks," said Jennifer.

"How much have you written?" asked Marty.

"I'm almost done with mine," replied Jennifer.

"So, Marty," said Denny. "Does one o'clock on Saturday seem like a good time for our next band practice?"

"Sure," said Marty.

"And we'll be doing it at my garage?" said Josh.

"Yeah," said Robbie. "My mom's having friends over for a game of Bridge, so one o'clock at your garage sounds good."

When school was over, Marty car-surfed over to Doc Brown's house.

"Marty," called out Doc. "Come in here for a second." Marty walked into the kitchen.

"Try these chocolate chip cookies," said Doc. Marty took a bite.

"They're delicious," said Marty. "Did Clara make them?"

"No, I did," replied Doc. "Four years ago." Marty spit out his cookie.

"Want some milk?" asked Doc. "It's eight years old." Marty was disgusted.

"You see, Marty," explained Doc. "I invented a device that preserves food by vacuuming the air out of plastic bags."

"That's great," said Marty. "I'm doing a paper on the sixties at school and I was wondering if I could use your time machine to visit the era?"

"Oh, I suppose you could," said Doc. "I wouldn't recommend using the train, as you don't have enough driving experience to operate such a large vehicle. However, I managed to make another time machine out of a Delorean. I already went to the future and got it hover-converted. I have some clothes that you can wear." Doc left the room and came back with some sixties clothes. Marty took them and went into another room to change.

Marty came back wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt, striped bellbottoms, and a vest adorned with American flags. His hair was parted in the middle and he was wearing a headband and purple tinted glasses.

"Well," said Marty. "Do I look fab?"

"'Groovy', Marty," replied Doc. "Not 'fab', you look groovy. And now for the finishing touch..." Doc puts a love bead necklace on Marty.

"No way, Doc," said Marty. "I'm not wearing love beads, no matter how groovy it is." Marty takes the love beads off.

"Wrong, Marty," said Doc. "You say 'Sorry, man, like, the beads trip isn't my thing.'"

"Sorry, man," said Marty. "Like, the beads trip isn't my thing." Marty was obviously having a hard time with it.

"How about this instead?" questioned Doc, handing Marty a Peace sign necklace.

"Fine," said Marty. "I can deal with this." He put it on.

"No," said Doc. "It's 'Far out! I can groove on this.' Now pop quiz: Who is the president in 1967?"

"Kennedy," said Marty, then remembers that Kennedy got shot in 1963. "No wait- Nixon."

"Lyndon B. Johnson," said Doc. "Didn't they teach you history in school?"

"Yeah," said Marty. "but I never thought I'd have to use any of it."

"I suppose you don't know who the governor was either," said Doc.

Marty shook his head.

"Ronald Reagan," said Doc.

"The president?" asked Marty.

"The actor," replied Doc. "And who's the mayor of Hill Valley?"

"Hey man," said Marty. "Like, politics isn't my trip, man, so like, quit hassling me!"

"Groovy," Doc said, smiling approvingly. "I think you're now ready to go. And here's three hundred dollars from 1967." Marty took the money and went into the Delorean and drove it at 88 miles per hour.


	2. Chapter 2

November 6, 1967  
7:00 AM PST

Marty lands the Delorean in Hill Valley Park, where a festival of some sort is being set up. Marty noticed that the circuits were fried. He hides the Delorean behind some trees and decided to tell the Doc of 1967 about it later. Marty walks through Courthouse Square as "Scarborough Fair" by Simon and Garfunkel is playing. Lou's Aerobics is now Lou's Go-Go Bar and there's go-go dancers in the window. Statler Toyota is still Statler Toyota. The Graduate was playing at the Essex Theater.

Conservatively dressed pedestrians notice Marty and his hippie attire. They give him dirty looks and many steer wide paths around him. Marty quickly realizes that he sticks out like a sore thumb. No one else, not even teenagers were wearing anything remotely similar.

He walks past a recruiting office. A Sergeant in the doorway scowls at Marty. He walks by a barbershop. It has a sign that says "Keep America Beautiful. Get a haircut." A barber in the doorway gestures his scissors invitingly at Marty. Marty shakes his head and walks on. He didn't understand why that barber wanted Marty to get a haircut. He thought his hair was pretty short, particularly for this era.

He walks past the record store that was advertising records, 8-track tapes, and live concert tickets for Janis Joplin, The Doors, and Jimi Hendrix.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to see Officer Reese. 

"New in town?" questioned Reese.

"Uh, well, yeah, sort of," answered Marty, nervously.

"What's your name?" asked Reese.

"Marty," replied Marty.

"Marty what?" questioned Reese.

"Uh, did I do something wrong?" questioned Marty.

"It depends," said Reese. "Around here, sneaking into a festival without paying suggests vagrancy. Let's see some ID, Marty. Like your driver's license."

"Uh, well," explained Marty. "I don't have one with me right now."

"How about a school ID?" said Reese. "Or a draft card. You must have a draft card."

"Uh, no..." said Marty.

"You don't have a draft card?" questioned Reese.

"What, is there a law against that or something?" Marty questioned.

Reese gives Marty a dirty look and handcuffs him.

"You can't do this," shouted Marty. "I'm only seventeen years old." That's technically true.

"Sure, you are, kid," sneered Reese.

"You don't believe I'm seventeen," said Marty. "But you call me 'kid.' Which one is it?" Marty never thought of himself as looking older than he was.

"That hippie has a real attitude problem," said a voice. Marty turned around and saw that it was Mr. Strickland, his school principal.

"If it were up to me," said Strickland. "All of these slackers would be shipped off to Vietnam."

"I agree with you, Steve," said Reese. "But unfortunately, the only way they can go is if they're enlisted or given a draft notice."

Later, in Hill Valley Jail, a cell door slams shut on Marty. Reese looks on as the Police Chief lays down the law.

"Violation of the Selective Service Act is a serious federal crime, kid," the police chief explained. "And we don't like dirty hippie draft resisters in our community. Now you're entitled to a phone call, so why don't you call your parents and get 'em down here."

"I think I should talk to a lawyer," said a sober faced Marty.

"You know what I think, Chief?" said Reese. "I think he's one of those outside agitators."

"I have the right to a lawyer," Marty said stubbornly.

"A lawyer, eh?" said the Chief. "Sure, kid. We'll get you a lawyer. When we get around to it." They walk off leaving Marty alone and scared.

Marty sits in his cell with his head in his hands as he hears approaching footsteps. Marty looks up to see Reese and a thirty-four year old black man with a huge afro.

"Alright," said Reese. "Meet your public defender, Goldie Wilson."

"That's Muhammad Wilson to you," retorted Goldie. Goldie didn't look like a lawyer. He was dressed in bellbottomed jeans with an African shirt and a snaggletooth necklace. The cop snickers and exits, leaving Marty to stare at Goldie.

"What you lookin' at?" asked Goldie. "You don't think a black man can do this job as good as a white man? Well, you're wrong, brother. Black is beautiful, and I'm beautiful. I have worked and sweated and persevered, putting myself through law school, to be the best that I can be. And that makes me the best attorney in this community, and the best legal representation that you can possibly have. Is that understood?"

"What it is, Brother," replied Marty. "What it is." That was slang that people in the '60s didn't understand.

"What is what?" asked Goldie.

"Uh, never mind," said Marty. "Look, I got to get out of here." Goldie looks at Marty's rap sheet.

"No ID, no last name, no draft card," said Goldie. "You're not making this very easy. Now, to get out on bail, you need $500, but you can't get a bond yourself without ID. However, if you come clean on this, I can get you off on vagrancy which is a $50 fine. Just go on the record about who you are."

"I can't," said Marty.

"Man, I am trying to fight for your rights," said Goldie. "But you have to level with me and get down with some facts."

"Alright," Marty sighs. "Here's what you can do. Say that a kid named Marty Mc--Marty is in jail because he doesn't have ID. Get it in the newspaper, on the radio, pass it around. When a certain person I know hears about it, he'll get me out. I hope."

"I can be with that," replied Goldie. "But this cat on the outside's gonna know 'Marty' means you?"

"Uh, well," said Marty. "You could take a picture of me. And use my last name, Tuttle." Marty was thinking of both that one episode of MASH and John Candy's character in the 1985 movie, Volunteers, when he came up with the name.

"Alright, Man," said Goldie. "I'll spread it around."


	3. Chapter 3

November 6, 1967  
5:30PM PST

Marty looks out the window at the night sky. He sighs, then paces impatiently around his cell. Finally, the jail cop comes back with keys.

"You're in luck, Hippie," said the jail cop. "You've made bail."

"Alright, Doc," said Marty. "I knew you'd pull it off!" The cop opens the cell and Marty follows him out.

Marty signs a form, and the jail cop hands him back his wallet. Marty opens it and sees it's empty.

"Where's my three hundred dollars?" questioned Marty.

"Impounded as evidence," answered the jail cop. "You'll get it back after your trial. If it's really yours." Marty looks around the Police Station and there's no sign of Doc.

"Where is he?" asked Marty. "The guy who paid my bail?"

"Guy?" questioned the jail cop. "I think you're a little confused."

"I paid your bail," said a woman's voice. Marty was shocked to see that the woman who paid his bail was none other than Lorraine McFly, his own mother. Lorraine is now 29 and looks like a flower child with long straight hair with a flower in it and a granny dress. She was wearing an "Another Mother for Peace" button.

"Marty Tuttle, right?" said Lorraine. "I read about you in the paper. I'm Lorraine McFly." She extended her hand to him.

"Uh, hi," said Marty, shaking her hand. "Thanks for bailing me out."

"I hope you know what you're doing, ma'am," said the jail cop. "If he skips town or doesn't show up for his trial next month, you'll forfeit the whole 500 dollars."

"Oh, I can tell by just looking at him that he'll never do that," said Lorraine. "Mother's instinct." Marty just smiles weakly. He's also worried that he might have to stay in 1967 for a whole month. Marty and Lorraine exit the police station together. 

"You seem very surprised about all this, Marty," said Lorraine.

"Yeah," Marty said nervously. "That's one way to describe it."

"Well, there are a lot of us in town who really believe in what you're doing, resisting the draft and all," said Lorraine. "It takes a lot of guts to be willing to go to jail for your beliefs. I admire that."

"Uh yeah," said Marty. "Me too."

"You see," said Lorraine. "I have a little boy, David. He's only four years old and I'd hate to see him go off to war."

"Don't worry about that," Marty blurted out.

"And my brother Toby's going to be 18 next year," said Lorraine. "He might have to go to Vietnam. It would be good for him to talk to you. Someone his own age."

"Yeah," said Marty, quietly. "His own age." He chuckles at the irony.

"Then you'll talk to him?" said Lorraine. "Great! In fact, we're having dinner at my folks' tonight. Mom won't mind an extra mouth to feed."

"Well," said Marty. "I should really get going."

"Going where?" wondered Lorraine.

"Uh, well," said Marty. "I got to meet somebody."

"I'll give you a ride," said Lorraine. "My car's right here." Lorraine pointed to a '63 Rambler Wagon.

"Well," said Marty. "It's kinda far. Out of town, actually."

"You can't leave town," exclaimed Lorraine. "I'll lose my bail money. And think of what it will do to the movement."

"The movement?" questioned Marty.

"The anti-war movement," said Lorraine. "Most people, like my father, think draft resisters are cowards. They don't understand that there are principles involved. But if you run off, they'll say 'See, I told you he was a coward.' You'd be setting a terrible example."

"Look, Lorrai-Mom-Mrs. McFly," said Marty. "I think you think I'm something I'm not."

"Don't be so modest," said Lorraine. "Goldie Wilson said he'd never met such a determined uncompromising young man. Now you're joining us for dinner and I won't take no for an answer."


	4. Chapter 4

November 6, 1967  
6:00 PM PST

"Mommy! Mommy!" some children could be heard shouting, as Marty followed Lorraine into the front door. As soon as Lorraine opened the door, Marty noticed a four-year-old boy and a one-year-old girl. He recognized them as Dave and Linda. Dave was wearing a t-shirt that read "War is not the Answer."

"Mommy, Linda was bad!" Dave insisted. "She spilled Grandma's juice!"

"Don't be a tattle-tale, David," Lorraine scolded, gently.

"Mommy, he hit me!" Linda wailed, as she clutched her Raggedy Ann doll.

"Because you were bad!" protested Dave.

"Quiet," commanded Lorraine. "Both of you. This is Marty." Then turning to Marty, she said, "These are my children, David and Linda."

"Charmed," said Marty. The kids could care less but Marty was fascinated.

"Mommy, when's Daddy coming back?" asked Dave, with tears in his eyes.

"He has to work late tonight," replied Lorraine. "He won't be home until after you go to bed tonight. He'll be home all day, though. I promise." Then, to Marty, she said, "My husband works at Hill Valley University as an English teacher. He's a writer, and he's hoping to get a novel published someday. Anyway, I apologize for my children's behavior. These two can be quite a handful." Turning to Dave, she shouted, "David! Stop hitting your sister! Sit down, Marty! I'll let my mother know you're here."

"Quit picking on me!" wailed Linda, as tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Pick! Pick! Pick!" Dave said, as he began to pick at Linda's cheek. Marty grabs little Dave and picks him up.

"Hey, kid," Marty said, "you know what happens to kids who pick on littler kids? The Brat Police come, put 'em in jail - and then they kill them and feed them to wolves. That's why I'm here. I'm in the Brat Police and I heard you've been bad. So if you don't behave, I'm taking you away tonight."

Dave looked very terrified, while Linda turned to smirk at her brother. Marty then set Dave to the ground.

"And remember," Marty added, "never pick on anybody who's smaller than you. And that goes double when they're named Marty." Then, to himself, Marty added, "If only they remember..."

oooooooooo

About a half an hour later, Marty walked into the dining room of the Baines' house. He felt a sense of déjà vu, as the dining room setting reminded him of when he had dinner with them back in 1955. The only big difference was that the TV was no longer in the dining room. Sam and Stella are now in their fifties.

"This is my father, Mr. Baines," Lorraine was telling Marty. "That's Sally, Toby, Ellen..."

"We've never had dinner with a freak before," piped Ellen. A thirteen-year-old blond-haired boy wearing an orange shirt seats himself at the table.

"And that's Joey," concluded Lorraine. "Our other brother, Milton, is at Stanford Medical school." Stella enters with a platter of meatloaf.

"I hope you like meatloaf, Marty," said Stella. The Baines family always seems to have meatloaf for dinner. It didn't help that they were originally from the Midwest. Joey poured himself a glass of water and only helped himself to the bread.

"Are you sure you don't want any meatloaf?" asked Stella. Joey shook his head, and continued eating his bread.

"Where are you going, young lady?" asked Sam, as Sally got up from the table.

"To see To Sir With Love with Jeanne and Mary Ann," replied Sally. "G'night, everybody." She smiled and winked at Marty, which made him uncomfortable.

"So, tell me, Marty," said Stella. "Are you one of those Haight-Ashbury people?"

"Uh, hate Ashbury?" asked Marty, confused. "I don't even know the guy." Then remembering that it was the '60s, he said, "Oh, I mean, like the hate thing is not my trip. Love is what it's all about. Peace and love." Marty flashes a rather unconvincing peace sign at everybody.

"Wow. Hippie talk is so groovy!" Ellen said, impressed.

"It's kids like you who are ruining this country," groused Sam. "Resisting the draft. Protesting the war. Do your parents approve of what you're doing?"

"Yeah," said Marty. "Especially my mother."

"If it was up to me," Sam growled, "I'd send all you hippies off to Vietnam. That'd make men out of you."

"Dad, would you stop it?" Lorraine pleaded. "What if Toby has to go there?"

"I'd kick some commie butt," replied Toby.

"You'll do no such thing," said Stella. "You're going to college."

"With his grades?" said Sam. "Besides, Toby won't have to go. Westmoreland says the war'll be over by January." Marty knew the war won't be over by then, and he figured that Sam didn't want Toby to go either. Toby actually did serve in the Vietnam War, and he got shot and killed while over in Vietnam.

"Mommy," said Dave. "Do I have to eat my carrots?"

"Yes," said Lorraine. "You have to eat your carrots."

"But I don't like carrots!" protested Dave.

"Eat them anyway," said Lorraine.

"No!" Dave shouted.

"David," said Marty, sternly. "Eat your carrots. Now!" The little boy looks at Marty with fear, and started eating his carrots like his life depended on it. Little Linda takes the hint and starts eating hers, too. Lorraine is very impressed.

"Ellen," said Sam. "Don't eat so fast!"

"I have to, Daddy," said Ellen. "'Lost in Space' comes on in five minutes."

"We do not run our lives by television in this household," said Sam.

_What a hypocrite!_, thought Marty.

"Since you don't live around here," said Lorraine. "You're welcome to stay with me and the kids."

"NO!" shouted Dave and Linda in unison.

"Uh, I have to go get some air," said Marty. He runs out to the front door.

"Don't hurry back," shouted Sam.

oooooooooooooooooo

Marty is on the front porch and he sees Doc Brown come up to him. And Doc was on a motorcycle. Doc looked like a combination of an Indian guru, a rock star, and a scientist.

"Hey Doc! How did you find me?" exclaimed Marty. Doc pulls the local newspaper from his back pocket. The front page included a story headlined, "Mystery Draft Resister Apprehended."

"At the police station they told me Lorraine paid your bail," explained Doc. "I went to her house, but a neighbor said she'd be at her parents. They can't do this to you. You're a minor."

"I tried telling them," said Marty. "But I didn't have proof. There's a problem with the time machine. The circuits are fried."

"Tell me where you have it hidden," said Doc. "And I'll get it over to my lab."

"It's over at Hill Valley Park behind some trees," said Marty.

"Groovy!" said Doc, who sped away on his motorcycle.


	5. Chapter 5

November 6, 1967  
7:30 PM PST

Lorraine's Rambler Wagon pulls into the driveway of the McFly residence. Marty, Lorraine, Dave, and Linda all get out and head for the front door.

"You know," Lorraine commented. "You remind me of someone I knew very briefly back in high school. His name was Marty too." Marty automatically knew she was talking about Calvin Marty Klein, who was really Marty.

"And I remind you of him, huh?" asked Marty.

"Yeah," said Lorraine. "He was very mature, and real cute... of course, he's a little taller than you..."

"I'm sure he was," said Marty. Two posters are prominent in the living room. One said "War is not healthy for children and other living things." The other said "Today is the 1st day of the rest of your life." Marty heard the door open.

"George must be home, now!" called out Lorraine. "I'll introduce you to him."

"Hello, sweetheart!" George called out, as he threw his arms around Lorraine, and gave her a kiss. Then, turning to Marty, he added, "I must say that I really do admire your courage to take a stand. I greatly wish people would stop staying that protesting the war is being unpatriotic."

Marty is draping a blanket over the couch where he is going to sleep. Marty lies on the couch, reading a newspaper article about himself. Next to it is an article headlined "Farmer and Wife Released from Mental Ward."


	6. Chapter 6

November 7, 1967  
9:00 AM PST

Marty, Lorraine, Dave, and Linda are all sitting at the breakfast table. Marty and Lorraine are having toast and coffee. Dave and Linda are eating Crispy Critters and watching Captain Kangaroo. Linda had cereal scattered all over the tray of her high chair. Just then, the doorbell rang. Lorraine went to answer it.

"Well, hello, Toby and Sally," Lorraine greeted. "What brings you two here?"

"We just want to see Marty," said Sally.

"Hey," said Marty, as he walked up to the visitors to greet them.

"Sally and I came here to see whether or not you want to come hang out with us," said Toby.

"Uh sure," said Marty. The three of them walked out the front door to see a red Mustang convertible with white leather seats.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Marty. "You have a Mustang?"

"Yep," said Toby, excitedly. "It's was only made last year. I think this baby's going to be a collector's item one day."

_You do not know how right you are,_ thought Marty.

"So I assume you two have always been very close," said Marty.

"Yeah," said Sally, putting her arm around Toby. "Toby is my best friend."

"I didn't have too many friends when I was younger," said Toby. "But she always let me hang out with hers."

0000000000

Marty, Sally, and Toby were in the Mustang, and "Good Vibrations" by the Beach Boys was playing on the radio. They stopped at a red light next to a '65 Chevy Ranchero. The man driving the Ranchero is none other than Biff Tannen.

"You shouldn't be drinking beer when you're driving," said a woman, possibly Biff's wife. She had a skinny face and wore large round glasses.

"Goddammit, Louise," shouted Biff. "You shouldn't tell me how to drive. You're a woman!"

Marty just stared. _Sheesh! What a sexist pig,_ he thought.

"What are you lookin' at, Hippie?" questioned Biff. "Hey Toby, say hi to your sister for me." Marty knew Biff was talking about Lorraine. Sally was in the car with them and Ellen's too young. There's also the fact that Biff has a huge crush on Lorraine. If you can call it a crush. It's more of an obsession.

00000000000

Marty, Toby, and Sally walked into the newly built Lone Pine Mall. Sally had her arm linked with Marty's, which made him uncomfortable.

_Jesus! What is the deal with my family hitting on me?_, thought Marty. _Why did God make me so damn cute?_

Sally waved to her friends and ran up to them.

"I think my sister's got it bad for you," Toby told Marty.

"Yeah," said Marty. "I noticed that. So why would a guy who wants to kick commie butt want to be seen with the likes of a hippie like me?"

"I don't hate hippies," said Toby. "I'm actually starting to question if the war has a purpose. It would be nice to serve for our country, but I don't think this war is going to end communism."

"I think that communism was a good idea in theory," said Marty. "But not in real life."

"Try telling that to my dad," said Toby. "He's one of those people who thinks draft resisters are cowards."

"Your dad thinks we're resisting the draft because we're scared?" asked Marty. "Maybe we are a little. I don't want to die. We're young. We still have a lot to live for. I just think it's stupid that young men are being forced to serve."

"I agree," said Toby. "This is America. But I probably will end up going. My grades are too low to get into college. And college is the only thing that will keep you from going."

"There's a Section 8," countered Marty. "But that probably won't work too well."

"You're right," replied Toby. "It may get me disqualified from the army. But I'll be put in an institution if I told them I was a queer or a cross-dresser." Marty spotted a Pepsi machine. He went up to it and got out his wallet, only to remember that his money was taken away.

"Say," said a voice behind them. "That's a nice wallet you got there." Marty turned around to see that it's his dad's friend, Lester, from high school.

"Where did you get that wallet?" asked Lester. Marty didn't think his wallet was anything special.

"I got it as a gift," replied Marty.

"It's okay," said Toby. "I'll pay." He gets money out of his wallet and buys them both Pepsi's.

"Marty!" called out a girl's voice. It was Sally.

"I know it's a little forward for me," said Sally. "But would you like to be my date for the festival tomorrow?"

"I'm really flattered and everything," said Marty. "But I have a girlfriend, and it just wouldn't be right."

"Oh," said Sally. "I'm sorry. If I knew you were in a relationship with someone, I wouldn't have asked."

"No," said Marty. "It's cool."


	7. Chapter 7

November 7, 1967  
5:00 PM PST

The phone rings, and Lorraine goes to answer it.

"Hello?" said Lorraine, as she picked up the receiver.

"Hi, Carol," said Lorraine. "How's everything?" She listens for a moment.

"Wow," said Lorraine. "That's a great idea. He's right here. I'll ask him." She turned to Marty. "Marty, this is Carol from the Hill Valley Reservation Society. She wants to know if you'd like to speak at the festival tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?" said Marty, nervously. "Uh, I wouldn't know what to say."

"You could talk about your experiences as a draft resister," replied Lorraine.

"Well," said Marty. "There's not much to tell."

"Please, Marty," said Lorraine. "It would mean so much to us."

"I'm not so good at public speaking," explained Marty. "But I'll be happy to help out."

0000000000000000

Marty is now at a hippie pad painting a peace symbol. There are other hippies making signs. A radio in the background is playing "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane. The pad is decorated with blacklight posters and lava lamps.

"You bake the peels," Marty overheard a hippie girl say. "Then you scrape out the insides, roll it, and smoke it. And it's legal. They can't outlaw bananas." Marty chuckled to himself, as he knows that smoking banana peels can't get you high. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around to see a guy with shoulder-length hair and a mustache.

"Hey man," said the guy. "Some friendly advice. Like, you're blowing it here." Marty didn't understand what he just said.

"You don't like my sign?" questioned Marty.

"Your hair, man," answered the long-haired guy. "You gotta let to go longer, get shaggier. And do a 'stache trip."

"What's that got to do with protesting the war?" Marty asked, confused.

"This ain't no protest, man," replied the long-haired guy with the mustache. "It's about chicks! They go apeshit for long hair. Make love, not war. You know what I mean?"

"I can dig it, man," said Marty. A freak who was smoking a joint got excited over a sign he just painted.

"Oh wow!" exclaimed the freak. "This is so heavy, like it just came to me, and seeing it here, it's like cosmic, you know? It's really gonna mess with people's heads." Marty looks at the sign. It says 'Power to the People.'

"Yeah, you're breaking some important ground with that," said Marty, sarcastically. A forty-ish woman walks in with a stack of flyers for the festival. The woman was Carol, the founder of the Hill Valley Preservation Society and the same church-group type woman who wants to save the clock tower.

"All right, people," Carol said, enthusiastically. "I need volunteers to distribute flyers and get the word out."

"I'll get some up around campus," said a girl wearing a black armband that said RIP Paul.

"I'll help her," said the guy with the mustache. The girl takes the flyers as she exits with the mustache guy.

"I get high from this," the girl said, after smelling the ink.

"I'll get some down on John F. Kennedy Drive," said Marty, as he takes some flyers.

"Heavy," said the joint-smoking freak. "Working for peace on a street named for a president brought down by a gun. Like, you must be a real symbolism freak, and I can grok that scene." That wasn't Marty's reason for going to John F. Kennedy Drive, but he nodded.

00000000000000000

Marty walks to Doc's garage and drops the flyers in the trash. He walks in to see Doc welding on a bench. Doc was so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice Marty come in. Marty looks around until he spots a counter with the letter from 1955 lying on top of it. Only two thirds of the letter was taped together. Marty hears a buzz. It's an early version of the dog food machine turning on. The dog food misses the dish.

"Aw, Jesus! That's disgusting!" muttered Marty. Doc's dog, Newton, runs through the doggie door, sees his lunch on the floor and barks. Doc stops working and looks up.

"All right, Newton," said Doc. "I'll take care of it." Then he sees Marty.

"Marty, I didn't hear you come in," said Doc.

"How are we doing here, Doc?" asked Marty.

"I've got it knocked, Marty," Doc said, scooping Newton's food and putting it in the dish. "The circuits are fried. The ones in this time machine are made in Japan, so it would not be easy to find ones that could replace them."

"Oh, man," said Marty. "This is heavy!"

"But," said Doc. "I came up with a plan. We hook up these trip wires to the car's battery and the flux capacitor so electricity from the battery can transfer to the flux capacitor."

"Doc," said Marty. "I just want to know one thing. Exactly how did you conceive this plan?"

"I took some LSD and it just came to me," replied Doc. Marty's mouth fell open as he never thought that Doc would ever do drugs, even in the 1960s.


	8. Chapter 8

November 8, 1967  
6:30 PM PST

Marty and Doc are attending the festival at Hill Valley Park. Marty was supposed to speak at 7:15 PM. George, Lorraine, Dave, and Linda were there too. A stage was set up with an American flag with a peace sign in the blue field, along with a bunch of anti-war banners. There was also a North Vietnamese flag for some reason. There was an oil drum with a fire. It was set up with a sign that read, "Put draft cards here." The band Blue Nirvana was playing "Eve of Destruction." There were also cops on the perimeter.

"You can't tell apart the boys from the girls," Reese whispered to Foley.

George, Lorraine, and the kids were joined by Stella and Sam, along with Toby, Sally, Joey, and Ellen.

"Dad!" exclaimed Lorraine. "This is a surprise!"

"Lorraine," Sam said, firmly. "I'm only here because your mother dragged me here. I'll listen to the speeches, but I'm not changing my opinion." Marty looks at his watch. It's a minute before 7.

Carol went up to the podium, addressing the crowd.

"I want to thank everyone for coming this evening," said Carol. "This is a great turnout, and it's exciting to see how many of us there really are!" The crowd cheers.

"Our next speaker, Guru Ahm Dahli Raj, is unfortunately unable to make it," Carol continued. "But he sends his vibrations to all of us for peace. So now, I'd like to introduce a young man who will tell us about his experiences as a draft resister, Marty Tuttle!"

"Great Scott!" exclaimed Doc. "That's you!" Marty steps up to the podium. He's clearly nervous and as he looks over the crowd, he notices a sign that said "War is a Waste of Human Life!"

"Before I get started," Marty started, "I think we should remember that above all, war is a waste of human life. I think it might be appropriate for us to have a moment of silence for those who have lost their lives in Vietnam... on both sides." Marty bowed his head, and the audience followed suit.

"Thank you," Marty continued. "Uh, well, I guess I'm supposed to talk about my travels and experiences... which have been unique, I assure you. Y'know, we're all here to say we're against the war, and that's great. But maybe we oughta take a few moments to figure out what we're for - what's it all about?" He looked into the audience and saw his family, which gave him an inspiration. "For me, the answer is the family. I guess you tend to take your family for granted because you just figure it'll always be there. But if you lose your family, you may never get it back. This I know from experience." He paused for a second.

"War tears families apart," Marty continued, nervously. "physically, mentally, and spiritually. Because of war, some families won't even have a chance to get started. But wars end, politicians come and go, issues change. Only the family remains. That is why there's nothing in life worth risking your family for - not for money, or power, or a career... certainly not for war, or the politics of war. There's a young man here who has mixed feelings about this war. He likes the idea of serving for his country, but at the same time, he feels that this war might not have a purpose. I met his family. They're nice people. And I'm sure that whatever choice he makes in the future, that his family will be there to support him." Toby blushed, knowing that Marty was talking about him.

"When you let politics, or war, or money," Marty concluded, "or anything make you lose sight of your own family - you're killing something in yourself, just like they are killing each other in Vietnam. We can't end the war tonight. But we can put aside our differences, and reaffirm our belief in one thing that is important - our families!"

The audience erupted with enthusiastic cheers and applause. Sam actually had tears in his eyes as the audience applauded. Sam and Stella walked up to Toby.

"If you don't want to serve in this war, that's fine," Stella consoled Toby. "In fact, your father and I don't want you to go."

"That's right! I always thought you can do something better with your life," said Sam. "You're going to college, even if it means we have to help you with everything. You think you can bring up your grades before you graduate?"

Toby looked over at Marty before saying, "Yeah, I think I can."

oooooooooo

"'Outside agitator', huh, Reese?" Officer Foley asked. "I don't see any agitation, do you?"

"No, sir," Officer Reese replied, blushing.

"Hey," Officer Foley called out, as Marty was walking by. "I would like to let you know that we have decided to drop all charges against you. You are now free to go. Happy trails."

"Thank you, Officer," Marty said, gratefully.

"Dismiss the charges," Officer Foley said to Reese, "destroy the records and make sure Mrs. McFly gets her bail money back. If you need me, I'll be home, spending time with my family." Marty hopped on the back of Doc's motorcycle, and "Born to be Wild" plays as they roar off.

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"Well, Marty," said Doc. "See you in eighteen years." Doc and Marty embraced, before Marty gets into the Delorean and hits 88 miles per hour.


	9. Chapter 9

November 6, 1985  
4:00 PM PST

Marty descends the Delorean in Doc's driveway. Marty gets out of the Delorean as Jules and Verne run up to greet him.

"Wow!" exclaimed Verne. "Did you just come from outer space?" Marty chuckled.

"Verne," said Marty, sarcastically. "If that's a spaceship, then I'm Michael J. Fox!"

"Well," said Verne. "You do sorta look like that J. Michael Fox guy."

"Michael J. Fox, Verne," corrected Jules. "Not J. Michael Fox."

"Well, actually," said Marty. "This is a Delorean. It's a car. This is also a time machine."

"Oh yeah," said Jules. "I remember Dad telling us he built his first time machine out of a car."

"Well," said Marty. "I'll see you guys later!" Marty skateboarded home.

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After Marty skateboarded into Lyon Estates, he made it to his driveway. Marty enters his house to see his parents cuddling on the couch, looking over _A Match Made in Space._

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad," said Marty.

"Hi Marty," said Lorraine. "What on earth are you wearing?" Marty notices that he's still wearing his hippie clothes.

"Oh, I had to borrow these from Dr. Brown," explained Marty, nervously. "Because of one of his experiments." Marty hurries down the hall to his room. George and Lorraine exchange a look.

"I just got a chill," said Lorraine. "You know, like déjà-vu? He reminded me of somebody back in the '60s..."

"Lorraine," said George. "You're always thinking about the past. The future, that's what's important. By the way, are Toby and Audrey still coming over for dinner on Saturday?"

"They sure are," replied Lorraine. "They're bringing Meg along too."

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Marty is in his room, beginning to write his essay for history. It will be pretty easy for him to write now that he has lived through it.


End file.
